by Ryan Smith | Feb 16, 2016
Can I tell you something I did as a kid that I’m ashamed of?
In second grade, I had a crush on a girl named Missy. I also had a best friend named Nick. One day at recess, Nick, Missy and I were playing keep-away with a plastic football. Nick prepared to launch a pass that I was prepared to “Odell-Beckham.” As he launched the ball, Missy made a leaping attempt to block it…which she did…with her face.
She fell crying, I came running, Nick started apologizing, and I told Nick I would never speak to him again.
And I didn’t. Ever. A few months later, Nick and his family moved, and I never saw him again.
I can still remember watching Nick cry and apologize for his accidental injury. I was bitter towards him, and though it was a small seed, I remember liking the taste of gratification, superiority, and self-justice it afforded me. I wanted him to hurt for what he had done. Sickeningly, I liked hurting him.
I was a bad friend. I’m ashamed. I can’t take it back.
When I look at my actions now as an adult, as well as witness the actions and interactions of those around me, I see the trees we plant as children often don’t wither over time, rather they grow deeper roots and strengthen in prominence. The fruit is more plentiful, and the size of the tree begins to shade out other areas, making them unsuitable for growth.
Bitterness in our own hearts keeps us from celebrating and experiencing the joy of others because it is not our joy. It keeps us focused on our hurts, our offenses, our injuries (accidental or intentional) because in our hearts, we believe we should have a life immune from those things. We should have joy. We should have privileges. We should be the point.
But we’re not the point. We aren’t immune. We aren’t able to live a single day without intentionally or unintentionally hurting a stranger or even someone we love. In a fallen world, fallen people do fallen things. In a fallen world, fallen things happen to fallen people. We will all feel and cause the pang.
The tree of bitterness is a lonely tree and an ungodly one. The poison fruit tastes like justification, rights, anger, and turns your relationships sour. The poison we often point to in others is not so much in them, but in ourselves – rooted in our gardens. Eating its fruit will eventually leave us spiritually dead, emotionally spent and physically exhausted.
But we cannot tear it out ourselves. We must be willing to allow others to speak truth into our lives and, in so doing, tear away the branches of our tree. We must avoid the temptation to pick up the fruit of bitterness and instead, let it lie and rot. Ultimately, we must ask the Holy Spirit to do the painful job of digging out the roots and destroying every semblance of the tree in our hearts.
The good news is the Spirit doesn’t stop there. Whenever he digs out a tree of sin, he replaces it with a tree of life. He replaces the kingdom of self with the kingdom of God. He places a seed, though it may be small, and waters it with His Word and the gospel as daily it reaches skyward in new life. This tree overflows with beautiful fruit not only for ourselves, but helps us nourish others.
Nick, wherever you are, I am sorry. I was wrong and I ask your forgiveness.
“See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no ‘root of bitterness’ springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled.” – Heb. 12:15
“’The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.’” – Jesus, Matt. 13:31-32
by Ryan Smith | Dec 21, 2015
One of Christian music’s most sought after and acclaimed artists is in a cult.
This is the claim explored in a recent article from Christianity Today. The article centers around a man named Wayne Jolley, the leader of a small group of people called The Gathering International in Franklin, Tenn.
The article highlights the relationship of Jolley and Christian music stalwart Ed Cash. Here is a summary statement from the article:
“(Ed) Cash is a leading member of The Gathering International, a small group of followers devoted to Wayne ‘Pops’ Jolley, a prosperity gospel preacher with a history of alleged spiritual and sexual abuse. Jolley’s followers, including Cash, call him a prophet and their spiritual father. They answer his sermons with ‘Yes, sir’ and shower him with gifts and tithes in exchange for his blessing. They also submit the details of their lives – where to work, where to live, and who to associate with – for his approval.”
Yikes…
So who is Ed Cash and why should we care?
Ed Cash is a linchpin of the Christian music industry. He is a multi-consecutive-year winner of the Gospel Music Awards’ “Producer of the Year” award and has been tethered for years as a songwriting partner to Chris Tomlin. He has produced or written with artists such as Kari Jobe, Steven Curtis Chapman, Casting Crowns, David Crowder Band, Bethany Dillon and many others. He is perhaps most well-known for his co-authoring of the hit song, “How Great Is Our God.”
Basically, if you listen to Christian radio, you’ve heard Ed Cash. His website jokingly boasts, “The GMA (Gospel Music Association) has tried to rename the association to GMECWARTG – Gospel Music Ed Cash Writes and Records, Thank Goodness.”
The Christianity Today article is troubling on several levels. Paragraph after paragraph unravels a sickening and disturbing story of the abuse of God’s name, His people, broken families, financial scandal and people listening to the voice of a dangerous false prophet.
My aim in this writing is not to pile on Ed Cash. Regardless of his standing, he warrants our prayer and our concern as one who is being deceived.
My aim is not to kick the Christian music industry or its participants. My aim is simply to ask a question: How does this happen?
How can someone be so closely knit to a professing Christian community without that community raising great concern on an individual level for one they care about?
It seems at some point in the recording process or during a brief get-to-know-you at Starbucks, a Christian artist would ask, “So where do you go to church?” It seems they would ask what he believes the Gospel is, what he is reading in the Word, what voices are influencing his walk and how he knows he is being led by the Spirit of God.
How can this go unchecked?
I want to point the finger at people like Tomlin, Jobe and Crowder, but I quickly realize I must use them not as a target, but as a mirror to look first at myself.
How many times have I asked those in my close circle of influence the same questions? Have I simply accepted a profession of faith and a Christian label to allow people and voices unfettered access to my heart, my family, my church? As long as they say the right words, am I content to leave the Gospel out of the conversation?
Do I care enough about people to look deeper than the Christian packaging?
Granted, I don’t know the ins and outs of Ed Cash’s relationships. He may have had people praying diligently for him as he has been mired in deception. He may have been through countless interventions, coffee-table chats, and may be in the process of church discipline by those leading his local church body.
I pray all of these are true. However, according to the article, it appears much of a blind eye has been cast the other way regarding this wayward brother as long as he keeps the hits coming.
Sometimes I fear this in my own life. I fear as long as the relationships are steady, the peace is kept, and we can keep using words like God, Jesus, love, sin and faith in conversation without getting mired in definitions, I should just leave well enough alone. But at what cost?
1 John 4:1 says, “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, for many false prophets have gone out into the world.” And what is it they have gone out from? John says earlier in chapter 2 that they have gone out from us – the church.
Be careful of wolves in sheep’s clothing. They may be influential. They may be meek. They may be both. But may they never go un-confronted by us because we have been passive in asking real questions to those around us.
Let us ensure those in our circles understand the Gospel and believe it. Let us be bold in testing the spirits, and in testing the spirits, may we win our brothers and sisters out of the bondage of lies.
Pray for Ed Cash, Wayne Jolley and the entire Gathering International that the truth of Christ would penetrate with light into darkness.
Pray that they may not put their trust in a man, but that they may know the true great God and how great He truly is.
by Ryan Smith | Dec 8, 2015
PAISAN HOMHUAN / Shutterstock.com
I have a young son who loves dinosaurs. I remember watching his eyes widen and brighten as he first saw the trailer for the new Disney movie, The Good Dinosaur.
Shortly thereafter, we received a copy of The Good Dinosaur children’s book containing the general plot and themes of the story. The characters were introduced, the setting was made and the plot was about to unfold.
Before the plot could even get out of the bag, however, one thing had to happen: (spoiler alert) the dad dies.
This has become a continual point of discussion between my wife and me as we have been reintroduced to the fantastical Disney movies we recall so fondly from our youth and introduced to new tales and characters. It seems at the beginning of every one of them, a parent is killed, captured, or missing.
I could barely contain my eye-roll when we watched Frozen together (she made me…) and the parents came in at the beginning preparing to leave on a boat. “Here it comes…” I said. The boat set sail, the lighting crashed, a wave rolled and (spoiler alert) the parents died.
While I find this idea troubling, it’s not something I can simply let go (see what I did there…Frozen…). As I run through my memory, this becomes less of an idea or plot point and jumps out to me as a major theme. Here are just a few examples:
- Sleeping Beauty – mom is dead
- Frozen – parents die
- Finding Nemo – mom dies
- The Jungle Book – wolf mom dies
- Beauty and the Beast – mother is dead
- The Lion King – dad dies
- Toy Story – father absent
- The Hunchback of Notre Dame – mom dies
- Aladdin, The Rescuers, Peter Pan, Lilo and Stitch – orphans
- Cinderella – mom is dead, dad dies
- Bambi – mom dies
- Mulan – runs away, boyfriend’s father is killed
- Tarzan – parents die
- Brother Bear – mom dies
I could go on and on and on (perhaps, to infinity and beyond…). In fact, more than half of Disney movies since 1938 have featured a dead, missing, or single parent.
So what’s my point? My goal in considering this is certainly not to villainize Disney or try to resurrect the ill-fated Disney boycott of the late 1990’s. In fact, this is not even a trait localized to Disney studios. Grimm’s fairy tales and other legends often include evil, absent, or tragically taken parents.
I highlight Disney movies because they have mastered the quality of breaking through firm barriers in the human psyche. It’s not just the funny characters and mind-numbing songs that get inside of us. In many cases, what makes Disney so effective is their unique ability to reach into a subconscious place where wounds are raw and often unaddressed in each of us.
Whether it’s the wound of lost childhood innocence exposed as Toy Story‘s Jessie sings her lament, “When She Loved Me” or the loneliness encompassed in the metallic eyes of the wandering, yet dutiful Wall-E, Disney movies tell us more than a story. In many cases, they retell stories of ourselves we have long forgotten or tried to suppress.
This brings me to my question. In reflecting the human experience to us, why does Disney continually feel the need to kill parents, remove the comfort of a home, make authoritarians evil, or simply wrap each plot with the idea that we are alone, we are in danger, and we are uncovered – blindly finding our way through a world that is not as it should be?
Our church has been going through Genesis recently. As I have been immersed in the unfolding creation narrative and been awed by the sovereign, ordaining hand of God, I am struck by the reality of the opening chapters.
The story opens with the beauty and creative majesty of God. It introduces the role and duty of man – God’s beloved creation. A setting is provided. All is well. It is good. And then it happens.
We lose our Father.
It is not as though God is taken, absent, or even killed. Rather, we seek to forge a direction and life outside of His word, provision, and goodness. We are estranged. We find ourselves hiding in the woods, covered in leaves, ashamed and afraid.
This is the heart each of us feels in a fallen world. Things are not as they should be. We were made to be loved in perfect relationship, but that relationship has been broken. The rest of the Bible shows a people wandering, falling, tripping and trying to navigate a world we don’t recognize with our God-made eyes.
This is the experience – the story – that Disney and so many like them have unknowingly tapped into and continually retell.
We sense it at this time of year as we look towards the hope and yearning of the Advent season. We want to be back home with our good Father. We look for a Savior.
But the story does not end there.
It is into this darkness that our Father speaks. Just as He came to Adam and Eve, He comes calling to us through His Son Jesus. He penetrates the history of a wandering people who are seeking direction in the dark from other wanderers. He not only comes to us, but He comes to bring us home. He comes to restore the relationship.
While it is many who believe our Father has left and is dead, Jesus comes to show us it is we who have left – who have died. He has come to give life eternal at home with God in the reality to come, and the comfort and guidance of God the Spirit as we walk with him now.
This is the story not even Walt Disney in his wildest imagination could dream up. This is the Gospel.
“But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of works done by us in righteousness, but according to his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal of the Holy Spirit, whom he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that being justified by his grace we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.” – Titus 3:4-7
by Ryan Smith | Nov 24, 2015
I have a bit of a morning ritual. After trying to accomplish a new personal triathlon best and my weekly Ezekiel re-memorization, I sit down and open my morning news. It comes daily in a form that I enjoy and trust. The news is up-to-date, explained well, and done so in a non-partisan or agenda-laden manner.
Over the past several months, it seems a trend has emerged in my morning newsfeed. The trend is panic. It seems every day there is a new attack, a new warning from ISIS, a politician said this or didn’t say that. Someone is calling someone else out, and the gloves are coming off. It seems we are held to the edge of our collective seats just waiting for the next shoe to drop, which could be the big one… (runs to dust off Left Behind books).
After I read the news clips, I open my social media feed to discover I’m not the first one to learn about the latest shade of fear. There are already multiple blogs, postings, 140 character quips and opinions staking flags in the ongoing battle of Us vs. Them.
Honestly, my tendency is to want to join them. I feel pressure to turn my gut reaction into a battlefront on a hill I am ready to die on.
Why is this? Why is our immediate draw towards a certain side of political or social rhetoric? Why are we quick to judge, slow to learn, and prone to spill out the words from our mouths (or fingertips) before they have had time to rest in a heart of prayer or even a moderate application of research and rational thought?
I find this particularly troubling as a Christian. As a follower of Christ, I am committed to the Bible as my worldview filter. I am committed to decisions that are not necessarily to my benefit or acclaim, but to the glory of God. Yet when faced with the latest crisis or question, I am so prone to throw in my two cents before I consider the ripples. I want to speak to the world on an issue before the Bible speaks to me.
May I be blunt? Thank you. A lot of people claiming to follow Christ have the waiting ear of websites and articles that are quick to take things out of context, demonize individuals, and even spread false propaganda to coerce a following or rally a base of villagers with pitchforks and torches at hand.
But the Bible continuously reminds us that God is, “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness” (Ex. 34:6, Num. 14:18, Neh. 9:17, Ps. 86:15, 103:8, 145:8, etc.).
The wise and prudent follower of God is to exercise these same traits.
“Whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly.” (Prov. 14:29)
“Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city.” (Prov. 16:32)
The book of James exhorts us, “Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God.” (James 1:19-20)
I am often quicker with my tongue than my ears. I get angry quickly, form opinions based on assumptions, and react more out of conquest for a cause than gospel-transformation through prayer. The Bible says when I do this, I hinder myself from seeing the righteousness of God.
I wonder if you have the same tendency. If you think you might, I would encourage you to try a simple exercise. Scroll through your Facebook or Twitter feed as well as your own personal page. Do your posts and the posts of those who are speaking into your life drip with mercy and grace? Are they adamant about applying due diligence and thought to an issue before applying anger or dissention? Is the main theme of each article, post, status, or repost steadfast love and faithfulness?
Or are they filled with strife? Are they hasty to judge and be contentious? Do they rally a cry for prayer or a cry to take up arms?
I am hasty to pull the trigger finger on quick responses and take up arms of contention. But the Gospel didn’t make me that way.
The Gospel makes me quick to remember that I am a sinner. The Gospel makes me quick to think “there but by the grace of God go I.” The Gospel makes me want to treat others as I would want to be treated. The Gospel makes me want to understand truth, apply truth, and stand for truth – even if that takes time.
The Gospel does not urge me to use battle-verses as ammunition. The blood of Christ does not make me quick to call for the blood of others. The Gospel tells me I am part of a sinful world whose only hope is the good news of Jesus Christ.
That’s something worth sharing – and sharing quickly.
by Ryan Smith | Nov 11, 2015
We are likely familiar with the words early on in the creation account of Genesis 2:
“Then the LORD God said, ‘It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a helper fit for him’” (Gen. 2:18).
We know the rest of the story. God causes Adam to fall into a deep sleep, and from his side makes woman. Adam opens his eyes and finds poetry on his lips as he celebrates this miraculous gift from an amazing God. From here we have the foundations of marriage and a description of perfect people with perfect bodies being perfectly naked and perfectly unashamed.
Perfect. God comes through. What a mighty God we serve.
I’ve read this a billion times (approximate), yet one facet of this story has escaped my attention.
Throughout the flowing lines of God’s creation, we are caught up in waves of awe continually beating upon our souls, “And it was good…and it was good…and it was good.” Of course in verse 18, we know God gives the first, “It is not good.” That’s not what surprises me, however.
I know this God. This is the God we sing about and presume when we pray. God spots a deficiency in our lives. He says it’s not good, and He fixes it quickly while we sleep. Right?
That’s the God I want. While yes, that is what God does here for Adam, he does something else first. Before he makes him a woman, he makes him lonely.
Lonely. In the Garden of Eden. It almost seems like a paradox. How could something like loneliness be part of God’s perfect and beautiful design? Isn’t he supposed to fix things like that? That’s neither positive nor encouraging.
But God creates loneliness. Look at what God does after he identifies that Adam’s solitude is not good. We are told God paraded every animal before Adam and he named them. God was not only putting Adam’s authority, work, and enjoyment on display before him, but He was showing him a lack in himself and the perfect world that surrounded him. He was showing him a need that had yet to be filled.
So why didn’t God just make the woman immediately after He made man? Why did God put Adam through the process of seeing opportunity after opportunity come before him, yet finding it lacking? Why make Adam feel lonely? That doesn’t sound like God…does it?
Perhaps the significance of this is that Adam had to see the desert before he would appreciate the rain. He had to see what was deficient in himself and all that he had before he could fully appreciate the gift God would give him. He had to see the Law before he could appreciate the grace.
Perhaps God is a giver of the empty to make us understand what a joy and privilege it is to be filled.
What Genesis 2 shows us is that God is the supplier of all we need. In fact, He knows what we need even before we do and is at work making that need known before we even know we need it (say that sentence three times fast).
This is my hope in the dry time. This is my anchor when I read the Bible and nothing happens. This is my hope when I find joy in basketball, music, my work, my family, my friends, yet in the quiet moments, recognize that none of them make me complete. This is my hope when I turn on the news and see nothing but depravity, destruction, and despair – even when I see good things in the world, but recognize there must be something more.
Even when God is showing us deficiency, be it loneliness, dissatisfaction, or any other ache, we can rest in knowledge that He is allowing us to see the shadow to make known the sunshine. He gives us the dark night to make the sunrise all the more beautiful.
God is a good God. We should never presume He is not at work. God is always at work, pointing us to our one true fulfillment that some day He will provide through Christ in a new home – an eternal home.
Until then, don’t be afraid of loneliness. Don’t be afraid of the dry.
These are only appetites being created to be satisfied by Christ Jesus Himself. Even in showing us there is no gift, He is revealing Himself as the Giver.